i hate when something that's pretty niche but everybody that knows it recommends it because its so good Is good. i hate when things are good. everything should be bad and people should recommend things based on how much they hate them.
I’ve been held up in writing because of this pain and anxiety, and what’s going on in Japan atm. I wish I could finish putting this together before ao3 deletes the draft from my account, but I think I’ll have to put off finishing this fic for a bit.
Tossing his phone aside, Ichigo heaves himself up from the sofa to answer the door. Padding bare-footed towards the genkan, Ichigo doesn't even bother checking who it is before swinging the door open, so it comes as a complete surprise when it’s Rukia on the other side.
"R-Rukia." Ichigo sputters, caught off guard. He would almost believe that he’s hallucinating—it wouldn’t be the first time--if it wasn’t for Ise standing at the end of his floor, on-guard.
Inclining her head in polite greeting, Rukia remains standing outside his apartment instead of barging in like she usually would. Ichigo straightens up at that tiny, yet significant observation.
"Come inside." Ichigo suggests, stepping aside to allow Rukia inside. When she passes him, Ichigo catches the hint of cigarettes cloaked by the scent of something airy and flowery. Perfume; something Rukia has never worn, something different about her within these two weeks. Ichigo can only wonder what else has changed about her within this time, saddened by the thought that she might not be the same Rukia from before anymore.
"You can take a seat in the living room." Ichigo informs her after watching her just stand there, pointing to the couch she used to pay homage to without any prompting.
"I'll make us some tea, so just make yourself comfortable." Ichigo explains with his back turned, already retreating to the kitchen before the end of his sentence, leaving Rukia still standing in his living room.
In the safety of another room--even though the kitchen is a part of the living room--Ichigo tries to recollect his thoughts before facing Rukia. Just last week, Ichigo was hoping for her to appear before him, eyes filled with reassurances and forgiving smiles. Now, it's like Ichigo's made peace with it--if she didn't show up in front of him for the rest of his life, he would've been fine with it--but now that she's actually here, Ichigo's not too sure what to do or how to feel even though he's played all these scenarios out in his head.
With a sigh of resignation, Ichigo decides to banish all expectations and possibilities from his head. Nothing good will come out of it. Rukia is here at his door, in his apartment now and they need to resolve this now.
"Here." Ichigo sets the tea down in-between them on the chabudai, taking up his usual spot when she's over by habit: across from her, on the floor of his own apartment.
Rukia hesitantly reaches out to touch the ceramic yunomi, stroking the familiar crack on the side of the cups from when she tried to prepare tea the one and only time in Ichigo's apartment. Ichigo didn't realize he had picked out that particular set when making the tea and almost regrets it if Rukia hadn't wistfully smiled at the memory associated with these tea cups.
"How have you been?" Ichigo can't help asking, picking up his cup just so he can have something to do or hold on to.
Rukia doesn't answer his question, suddenly lost in the depth of her tea. Ichigo almost considers asking her again, thinking that she might not have heard the first time, but then she looks up from her tea and speaks slowly, enunciating every word distinctly, "Not well, but I think I'm doing better."
Ichigo's eyes widen in surprise. This is the first time he's heard her speak in all the time he has noticed her and after they became acquainted. He was even starting to think that she couldn’t speak. It might not have been loud, more like a whisper, but he’s awed speechless nonetheless. His thoughts must be written all over his face since she grins knowingly at him from over the rim of her teacup.
"Have you been playing me all along?" Ichigo coughs, embarrassed. He probably had his jaw flapping like a fish, no wonder she couldn't hide her smile.
With a guilty look, Rukia looks away from Ichigo while biting her lips. He mentally berates himself for being insensitive. It clearly wasn't her intention to mislead him. It’s his fault for making assumptions.
"I--" Rukia struggles to get the words out, feeling them lodge up in her throat. She keeps trying again, but she can never get past the first word and must wonder after the seventh try if she sounds like a broken record—annoying and grating to the ears. Self-conscious, she wishes a hole would open up and swallow her right now. Regrettably, her body grants her request with the tell-tale signs of a panic attack: the chill before the all-consuming hot flush, heart palpitations, breathlessness, and recognizable tingling in her fingers, feet, and back of her mind that would only spread soon and render her paralyzed.
"Rukia."
Rukia opens her eyes upon hearing her name, looking for Ichigo, who's no longer sitting across the table, instead hovering beside her.
"Rukia. You need to breathe." Ichigo instructs, seating himself next to her and laying his hand against her stomach.
"Deep breaths from where my hand is, ok?" Ichigo guides, demonstrating it with himself so she can time her breathing with his. He continues to keep his hand on her diaphragm to make sure she's taking deep breaths, enough to calm her and loosen her chest muscles so every breath isn't constricting her heart.
"Better?" Ichigo checks, noticing how her pallor looks better.
Nodding, Rukia slumps back onto the sofa she's seated on, drained.
Reassured, Ichigo stands to give her some space, but not before flicking her forehead.
'Ow!' Rukia mouths, glaring up at Ichigo, 'What was that for?!'
"For working yourself up into a frenzy that you almost had a panic attack in my living room, on my couch." he explains, implying how he didn't want her corpse in his apartment. Offended, Rukia sits up to voice her outrage about how it was out of her control and--
Pushing her back down, Ichigo scowls at her with a look that shuts her up, 'I wasn't done.'
"And also, that I'm sorry for not realizing sooner and being a bad friend all-around."
Rukia shakes her head, disagreeing. Those should be her words.
"One last thing," he continues, completely disregarding anything she has to say on this matter until he can finish articulating his thoughts and feelings after almost witnessing her have another episode, "You don't need to explain yourself. I don't understand why you need to, but I suppose if it'll make you feel better or you want to be honest, I can understand, but if it's at the cost of something, I don't need to hear it. I just want to know that you're alright, that's all I need. And if you're not, I want you to tell me," he emphasizes that last part with a steel look.
Rukia feels something fill her eyes and obscure her vision, but quickly wills it back when she recognizes them as tears. She hasn't cried since grade school. She had always thought her tears dried up ever since that incident, but it must be because no one has ever been able to touch her heart with all the walls she's built around it. No one until Ichigo.
"Baka..." Rukia whispers brokenly, hiding her face underneath her arms.
And somehow with that insult, Ichigo knows they'll be fine, retreating so they can both have their own space, taking their cold tea with him so he can brew them a fresher, warmer one.
Meanwhile, Rukia’s mentally berating herself for letting her emotions get the best of her, letting her guard down and showing her vulnerability. The walls around her heart were built specifically for that reason, to protect herself from all of that. She wouldn’t have made it this far without them. Her heart would’ve been shredded to pieces by the whims of people that call themselves her family, classmates, friends---
~VIBRATE~ ~VIBRATE~ ~VIBRATE~ VIBRATE~ VIBRAT--~
Rukia gasps, sitting up abruptly while feeling around behind her for the device that startled her.
Ichigo's mobile phone and Inoue Orihime calling.
Scanning Ichigo's apartment for the aforementioned man, she spots the shock of orange in the kitchen, probably putting away the dishes. Standing up on wobbly legs, she pads towards the kitchen, approaching Ichigo to give him the incessantly buzzing device.
Just like her to be not-so-suble, she presses the buzzing device up against his sides, startling him in turning around and grabbing at the object in question: her wrist holding his phone. He’s prepared to question her, but with a raise of her brow, Rukia switches her gaze between Ichigo and his phone, ‘Someone’s calling you, you idiot.’
Without looking at the caller, only a mumbled comment of, ‘This woman,’ Ichigo takes his mobile device from her and answers, “Yeah?”
“Oh! Kurosaki-kun!” Orihime greets through the phone, surprise laced in her voice that he picked up her call. He wasn’t answering her messages earlier so she didn’t think he would answer her call either, but she was worried when he didn’t message back to let her know if he was ok. Then her imagination started going off on its own and honestly, who knocks on someone’s door this late into the night? Only serial killers and bloodthirsty neighbors.
“Inoue?” Ichigo flickers his eyes briefly to his guest who’s looking up at him curiously. Reflexively, he turns away from Rukia so she can’t read in on his conversation with Orihime. Not that he cares, really.
“I-I-I was worried because you didn’t answer my messages! You’re not in trouble are you, Kurosaki-kun?” Orihime struggles to find her words as her mind continues wracking up all these scenarios of Ichigo and his unexpected guest.
Reminded, he feels apologetic for having worried her, “Ah. Sorry, Inoue. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry anymore.”
“Thank goodness!”
“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow, yeah?” Ichigo hastens to end their phone call when Rukia peers over behind him, wide eyes tracking his lips and nervousness.
“Mm.” Orihime agrees, but can’t help her curiosity, “Who was it?”
“A friend. We’re catching up is all, so I got distracted.” Ichigo answers, cupping his hand over his mouth when Rukia proves persistent.
“Oh.”
“Sorry. They kind of came unexpectedly.” Ichigo explains when he notices the drop in octave of the caller’s usually chipper voice.
At Rukia's suggestive eyebrow waggle and devious smirk, Ichigo flushes and hastens to end his conversation with Orihime, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Inoue."
BEEP
"There's nothing between me and Inoue." Ichigo finds himself saying first. Rukia doesn't believe it, Ichigo surmises with the unfazed expression etched on her face.
"We just message each other here and there. I'm kind of looking after her for Tatsuki." Ichigo continues to explain, unobservant of how he's digging his own hole deeper.
'Suuuuuuuuure.' Rukia's eyes mock in an exaggerated eye roll, reverting back to their former communication with looks and gestures.
"It's true!" Ichigo defends, more bothered than he thought at the idea of Rukia assuming him together with Orihime.
To prove that he's not fooling anyone, Rukia grabs at Ichigo's phone to validate her presumption.
"Oi! What are you doing?" Ichigo chides his friend, chasing after her--his phone--as she thumbs it open, passcode unprotected.
Clicking on his messages, Rukia shows Ichigo his latest message from Orihime:
Inoue Orihime 23:37
You're welcomed to stay at my place, Kurosaki-kun.
Above that are eleven other unread messages from the last time Ichigo messaged her, so there's probably a context in there somewhere to that last message, but if read by itself there could be a misunderstanding. Ichigo prepares to round on Rukia to point that out, but pauses, thinking back to when and how Rukia would've seen the message if they were talking earlier. That last message was sent consecutively with the other messages, right after he went to open the door, so the only way Rukia could have saw the message would to be to unlock his phone personally while he wasn't looking--
Ichigo looks down at her in understanding, "You snoop!"
Rukia dances out of his reaches, his phone still a hostage in her hands. 'You don't have to be shy!' Rukia's eyes laugh once she faces him.
For some reason, he feels an inexplicable indignation boil over inside him and he snarls, "We're not together!", before lunging at Rukia for his phone.
Caught off guard by Ichigo's vehemence, Rukia trips over her own unsteady feet in her haste to escape. Falling backwards, she can only shut her eyes and brace for the impact of the fall to come.
A fall that never comes.
Opening her eyes, Rukia realizes Ichigo cushioned her fall, but now she has 66kg of male mass atop her, crushing her, quite deliberately too. Ichigo ignores Rukia's harmless slaps against his shoulder to get him to ease off, torturing her in a bit of fun and retribution. Rukia isn’t amused and continues to beat and slap her dainty hands anywhere she can reach him: his shoulders, back, chest, arms, face. Conserving her strength for breathing though, her attacks don’t hurt so Ichigo takes it all in stride until it satisfies his revenge. Appeased, he lifts the bulk of his weight off her, hovering over Rukia as she catches her breath.
'You. Fat. Ass.' Rukia glares, red-faced.
"You shouldn't have started a fight you wouldn't be able to win." Ichigo rebuts, even though he's just now comprehending that this was all a trap to agitate him like she always did, will continue to do, the bane of his existence.
'I always win.' Rukia corrects him, eyes crinkling in mirth. Ichigo doesn't bother to correct her, smiling down at her fondly and committing this moment to memory, especially the way she looks so happy and free.
‘Only because I let you.’ Ichigo wants to tell her, but can’t gather the confidence to say because it feels like he’ll be crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed once crossed.
Curious about what’s going through Ichigo’s head, Rukia taps the side of his temple along with a tilt of her head, causing her long hair to fall behind her right ear from the movement and pull of gravity, exposing a vulnerable part of her, inadvertently. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Ichigo either.
It's brief, but the orange-head is certain he caught a glimpse of something in Rukia's ear. Just to make sure though he brushes his hand over her cheek in indication of what he's doing.
Rukia's elation evaporates in a matter of nanoseconds when she feels the tips of his fingers brush near her earlobe. Her body freezes as her violet eyes go wide, every muscle in her taut and even Ichigo can feel the sudden tension suffocating the woman below him. Immediately, he pulls his hand away from her face, but she is quicker than him, her hand grasping onto his retreating one. She brings it back up to her face, her gaze soft and calm even if her quaking body and trembling fingers say otherwise.
With her permission, Ichigo tucks her hair behind her right ear to better examine what he saw earlier. Unable to see anything, he leans closer over her to have a better look; he can't help but smile at the breathlessness he hears from her at their proximity. He can even hear her smile when his hair tickles her nose and his heart soars, only to plummet when he realizes what it is he's seeing.
A scar that appears to be from some kind of messy tearing, if the deep, jagged scars around her concha are any indication. Against her pale skin, the dark, raised lines are an obvious contrast; it's no wonder she keeps her ears hidden. With shaking fingers of his own, Ichigo traces the scar tenderly, committing it to memory and wondering how such a scar came to be, but refusing all the scenarios that come to mind as well.
Perhaps self-conscious now, Rukia tilts her head back to look at Ichigo, hiding her damaged ear from his gaze.
'How?'
'Why?'
He mouths. He doesn't realize he's crying until she thumbs his tears away with a broken smile that speaks for it all.
'It happened a long time ago.'
'It's fine.'
'Don't worry about it, you fool.'
The fact that she hasn't shed a single tear, Ichigo knows she's not fine and crushes her in his arms, hiding his face in her neck and drawing her closer than ever with each growing second.
'I wish you could tell me...' Ichigo confesses, thinking back to their conversation earlier about how he wants her to be honest with her feelings, but aware that this must be a past she can’t open up about yet. So, he tightens his hold on her even more as if that alone would be enough to squeeze the truth out of her.
Surprised, Rukia huffs in exasperation but not before returning the embrace, pale fingers dancing across his neck, shoulders, and back in a comforting soothe.
For what seems like ages, the two of them remain entangled even after their emotions have calmed. It's as if neither of them knows what to do to break the awkward intimacy they've ended up in. When Ichigo's restless hands accidentally stroke Rukia's sides though, he sees their escape.
Unprepared for the assault, Rukia gasps at the sudden relentless tickling. Embarrassed, she tries to stifle her squeals and wheezing while trying to protect herself from the onslaught that is Ichigo's large hands creeping up her sides like spiders.
The tickling match has separated them from their awkward sprawl. In the quiet room of his apartment, Ichigo can't help but marvel at the sounds coming from Rukia, like an echo that won't stop reverberating in his head. Ichigo decides it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.
Any advice for getting rid of a persistent crush? Thanks in advance - a very tired gryffindor
In my experience you can’t really do anything to get rid of feelings.You can always try spending time away from the person that you have feelings for. But I don’t know if there’s a whole lot you can do to really get rid of them. Feelings are thing that you can’t exactly control.Sometimes just accepting that they’re there and there’s nothing you can really do about it will make it better.I hope whatever you’re going through gets easier for you love.-Mel (the Slytherin)
